


I love you so

by Elvesinmyheart



Series: You, Me & the things we do [6]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Father/Son Incest, Fluff and Smut, Incest, Kissing, Legolas likes it, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Prostate Milking, Shameless Smut, Smut, Thranduil is a vain shit, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6713020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvesinmyheart/pseuds/Elvesinmyheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas looks forward to a hot bath after hours of training on the archery grounds, but somehow he gets distracted a long the way by his vain father.<br/>Basically Thranduil being the vain shit he is and Legolas loves it way too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I love you so

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for not posting anything new in the last two weeks. Had some problems with my hard drive and lost some of my newer writings I didn't save to my externs. :(  
> But don't worry, there are more snippets to come, including Legolas' first person POV and steamy Throne Sex. (will be the next ;))
> 
> Also I'm working on a multi-chapter fic with an actual real story for these two. I'm having the story outlined already and will soon start writing. Though I want to finish at least 3-4 chapters before I start uploading.
> 
> Lovely beta again is Malind. Without her these snippets wouldn't be online, so thanks to her. :D

Relief floods Legolas' system when he arrives in the bathing chambers, his body dirty and aching from hours of training on the archery grounds. All he wishes for is to plunge himself into the hot water of the natural springs. He needs to be clean and presentable. Thranduil awaits him for supper in less than an hour and he wants to be pretty for his king. 

The rush of heat that jolts through him when he thinks of his father catches him by surprise, causing him to nearly stumble over his breeches while he tries to remove them. His mind is instantly flooded with images and feelings of their last night together. His father's smell, his sensual words, both affectionate and lewd, his face and voice while coming with a lustfulness Legolas' hadn't thought possible. These things have branded him forever, and the selfish part in him craves to experience it over and over again. He feels helpless against Thranduil's allure and wonders how he ever managed to stay away from him that long, or how anybody was able to stay away. His father is the epitome of beauty and sensuality in the whole kingdom, and Legolas knows that nearly every elf, males and females alike, entertain sexual fantasies with their king. He couldn't blame them. Once caught in his web there is no escape, and Legolas is deeper down than he cares to admit. 

He takes a steadying breath in an ill attempt to calm his already rising member and removes the rest of his clothing, throwing it carelessly to the ground. So enraptured in his thoughts, he doesn't notice the other's presence in the room, until he feels hot skin behind him. He tenses for the split of a second, then his breath hitches as he is pressed flush against the other's chest, facing away from him. Hands sneaking around his chest and hip, holding him close. Thranduil's touch instantly burns his skin, and his knees give way when he feels lips nipping at his ear. His pulse springs dangerously high.

"Have I not taught you to fold your clothing, my son?" his father drawls, and the tone in his voice sends a shiver down his spine. His throat feels too tight, suddenly he is hyper-aware of the other elf's presence.

"You have, Ada," he manages, flushing hotly as he remembers his own filthiness and why he came here in the first place. He tries to wiggle out of the king's embrace, but he doesn't get far. Thranduil's grip is like iron around him, his lips still nipping at the sensitive tip of his ear. 

While one hand tilts his chin up to meet his father's waiting mouth, the other strokes down his hip and dips in between his soft thighs. He is rock hard already, yet his father ignores his erection and just nudges lightly at his balls, teasing him leisurely while his tongue dives into the youth's mouth. Coaxing his own out to follow him inside his own. Legolas moans; it's the only thing his mind is capable of doing when he is touched like this, feeling his father's lips turning into a pleased smile while they kiss soundly.

"I love your thighs. So soft," Thranduil whispers low and squeezes before he lets go of Legolas altogether and glides elegantly to the water. The youth watches, startled, but with hunger as Thranduil, nude already, sits down at the edge of the stones, water rippling around his chest. His posture elegant and arrogant, while he eyes his son with a satisfied smirk, knowing very well how much he affects the boy. 

Legolas wishes to sink down to his knees and show his absolute submission. But he doesn't and simply stands there, transfixed, and observes how his father dives under the water to wet his hair. When he surfaces again, he is even more tempting with the water running down his features and his lips parted and wet. Drops of water stick to his brows and long lashes. He is so beautiful. It makes his mouth water just to look at him.

Do you like what you see, Legolas?" Thranduil asks, and Legolas wants to say that 'liking' doesn't even begin to describe what he sees but he doesn't dare.  
Suddenly feeling coy and shy under his father's stare again, no matter what they shared already. He feels like prey under the stare of a predator and Thranduil looks like he could jump at him any second. The vain smirk the king wears just intensifies Legolas's nervousness, and he shifts where he stands, trying to get into a positon where it doesn't feel like he'll be eaten alive. Of course it is completely hopeless.

Thranduil's eyes are glinting with mischief and follow him, amused, when Legolas finally starts walking to the natural pool in the middle of the room. The boy sighs sweetly when the warm water laps on his skin, easing away the soreness in his muscles, both from the training and the previous night, and sits opposite to his father against the wall. He cleans himself, washing the dirt from his face and body. Then dives down, partly to get the mud out of his hair and partly to hide from his father's burning eyes. When he surfaces again Thranduil hasn't moved an inch, still resting lazily in the water with his arms slung around the stones to the sides. His long hair flows like a champagne colored carpet of silk around him. Legolas feels strangely exposed, helpless like a newborn fawn. 

They sit a while like this. Enjoying the water, or at least, Legolas tries to, but it is difficult with Thranduil so close to him. He watches him from under his lashes, his member hard under the surface of the water, and for a second he considers touching himself, but that would just invite his father to punish him in some lewd way again. A spanking maybe? He shudders and his cock gives an approving twitch, which Thranduil, of course, notices with a smirk. 

"Come here. You are hopeless," he says, reaching his hand out to offer it for taking. 

Legolas eyes the hand suspiciously for several seconds, but then the wave of anticipation overwhelms him and he takes it, eager. His father guides him into his lap. He sits down on his knees but Thranduil doesn't have it and lifts his legs, causing him to slide forward until they are flush together. The flush on the young elf's cheeks deepens and his breathing quickens considerably with the sudden closeness. 

"Your nervousness is very sweet my treasure, yet you do not have to be. You please me greatly with your presence alone. Stop thinking so much and give yourself to me."

The boy shudders. It's said soft, and yet he feels the underlying order in it. His father can never quite speak without it, but he finds he does not care. He is a king after all and Legolas is used to bow to him. His power and beauty a too intoxicating mixture to resist.

Naturally, he gives in and mewls sweetly when Thranduil kisses a line from his collarbone to his throat. He feels teeth there and a sharp sting when his father sucks another bruise into his flesh. The ones from the previous night are still visible. 

"Meludir asked where I got the bruises from," Legolas says idly and tilts his head to give better access, hands coming up to run over the older elf's chest, feeling the power under the trained muscles. 

The mouth wanders over his chin to hover over his mouth. "What did you say?" Thranduil breathes, hands squeezing at his buttocks, spreading them, causing the boy to gasps in surprise.

"I said..." he begins but his voice is stuck in his throat because there is a finger circling his entrance now, and it feels good. "I said I got them from you." 

He already has to fight consciousness when he hears a dark chuckle and a finger presses into him. It feels more intense without oil to ease the way. "Did he believe you?", his father wants to know, seeming unfazed by the fact his son told the truth.

"I do not know. I meant it to be sarcasm and he laughed, but I felt his gaze linger on me for the rest of the training and he was unfocused. I think he pictured it."

Thranduil smiles wickedly and captures his mouth in a breath-taking kiss, drawling somewhere in between: "Of course he did. They all do. I overheard enough to know that the most favourite fantasy of them all is to watch us fuck in my throne while they hide like the cowards they are and touch themselves."

Legolas moans, feeling hot and wildly aroused by the vision. He is not sure of the being watched part, but being claimed in his father's center of power is a favourite fantasy of his. Thranduil adds a second and a third finger, the free hand coming up to toy with his breast and nipples, and his mouth moves to his sensitive ears. 

"I see we share the same fantasy," Thranduil murmurs and continues to finger him open. Four fingers are in now and the stretch burns, causing Legolas to hiss in pain. The king's free hand moves down then and lifts him up. He doesn't feel ready to take his father's girth without oil and just hopes the water helps a bit to ease the way. 

"Relax. Your elven body can take a lot," his father says to calm him, and then Legolas feels the head of his cock nudging him open. He is thankful for the pre-cum it already leaks, making it easier for him to slide down. 

It still burns, and his instinct reaction is to wiggle away from the intrusion, but Thranduil doesn't let him. He forces him to accept and presses him so deep down that his cock fills him completely. Then he pulls out partly again, tilting his body away from him and the pain is instantly washed away with an overwhelming pleasure as his father presses against his prostate. He gasps, struggling for air, eyes rolling back in his skull. It feels like he is coming, his cock leaks cum constantly and twitches between his legs, but he isn't. It's a delicious feeling, and he is held like this for several minutes with Thranduil's fingers digging into the skin of his hips. His mind is hazy and delirious, he didn't know it was possible to feel like this without moving an inch. The constant pressure sends wave after wave of an deep resonating pleasure through him, that he not only feels in his cock but in his complete bottom and stomach.

"Yes, feel me. Feel me inside you. You are mine Legolas, as is your pleasure," Thranduil growls deep and snaps his hips forward, pressing in impossible deep and the youth thinks he passes out. Again he withdraws, again the tip hits the perfect spot. His cock jerks and leaks even more cum. He doesn't understand his body reaction and just mewls lewdly, helplessly hanging in Thranduil's arms. It feels amazing, and he wants to linger forever in this state. Mindless and free of any thoughts. Just feeling him.

"This feels so good. More. Ada, more," he begs and the other elf obliges, holding the pressure another minute.

But then Thranduil withdraws, still in him but no direct contact with his prostate, and Legolas slowly comes around to his senses, blinking tears of pleasure away and realizing that he is still hard. Painfully so. He hasn't come.

"It is your prostate that makes you feel like this. Stimulated in the right way, it feels very similar to an orgasm," Thranduil explains, his voice rougher and deeper than before.

"Ride me," he then orders, and Legolas does, trying to find a rhythm with his heart hammering in his chest like he is running a marathon, and after a minute his movements are fluent. His father kisses him, filthy and open mouthed. A spark of heat shoots through him when Thranduil moans and then praises him for the good work he is doing. 

The slide of hot flesh inside him and the friction of Thranduil's stomach against his cock feels so good that his eyes roll back into his skull again and his head falls back. His mouth hangs open in soundless gasps. His father is so deep again. So deep inside, hitting that spot again and again. Soon, Legolas loses track of everything, except the feeling of the incredible hard flesh inside him and the hands on his sensitive nubs. The older elf plays with his nipples, twists them and mouths at them, all the while growling and moaning low in his throat. Legolas is so grateful that Thranduil doesn't hide his pleasure and is as open with his lust as he is. It makes it easier for him to let go.

"You filthy, little thing," the older elf moans low, his cock getting impossibly thick inside. 

And then Thranduil comes. Legolas watches, fascinated with the tremors that rush through his father's body and the twitching of muscles under his skin when his body lets go of the tension. Fingers dig so painfully in Legolas' skin that he is forced to be still. His father's head falls back to the edge of the pool, lashes fluttering shut, and he moans so erotically that Legolas feels it down to his very core and follows just from the vision, the view too powerful to resist. He comes so hard that his vision blurs, the room fading away, as he clamps down around his father's cock, milking every last drop out of him. Somewhere in the haze of his ecstasy he is pulled down into a messy, sloppy kiss, Thranduil's hands fisting into his hair, and the hand on Legolas' cock only intensifies everything he is feeling. His whole body is a feast of sensations.

"Oh Ada," he moans hotly, going weightless and limp in his father's arms, before a satisfied smile stretches over his lips. He feels dizzy, warm and unbelievably happy.  
"I love you. I love you so much," the boy adds quietly and sobs, overwhelmed, tears of happiness spilling down his cheeks. Thranduil looks at him and brings his hands up to his cheeks to wipe the tears away. Then he leans in to rest his forehead against his son's, a rare and true smile on his lips while he places cute kisses on the tip of his nose. Legolas giggles.

"Yes," Thranduil whispers back and strokes through his hair, "Yes, I love you too, my beautiful child. In all ways possible and more."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! :)


End file.
